


The Bloody Aftermath

by irishgirlE



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Blood Loss, Demon Blood, Episode: s04e19 Jump the Shark, Gen, Implied/Referenced Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-06-21 19:03:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15564414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irishgirlE/pseuds/irishgirlE
Summary: Sam stared up at the sky. He used to imagine that angels were stars. That they looked down on everyone, protecting them. Everyone except him. Sam Winchester, the abomination, the boy with the demon blood.





	The Bloody Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> There is reference to suicide so if that bothers anyone, don't read this. This was also written in 2011, so it's not very good. Originally posted on fanfiction.net.

Sam stared up at the sky. He liked the sky. And the stars. He used to imagine that angels were stars. That they looked down on everyone, protecting them. Everyone except him. Sam Winchester, the abomination, the boy with the demon blood. The boy who prayed  _every fucking day_ since Pastor Jim taught him the "Our Father".

Sam looked down at his wrists. Dean had bandaged them once they had gotten away from the ghouls. They had burned Adam's body as soon as Sam had been able to stay awake long enough. He had been quiet throughout the funeral. Dean hadn't pressed but he had been watching him constantly. It had been beginning to bother Sam.

Sam knew Dean thought he had gotten there just in time. He just wished Dean had been a few minutes later.

As he had lay on that table, blood dripping out of his veins, Sam had noticed something. He had started to feel clean. He hadn't realised how dirty he felt, how dirty his blood felt. It was the demon blood. He hadn't known that that was such as revelation. But being able to feel the evil inside of him made him want it gone with a sudden passion.

The bandages that had been around his wrists were torn. He had torn through his wrists too. Bitten open the stitches in his wrists. It should have bothered him, but he had bitten Ruby skin, torn it with his teeth, plenty of times. It was different when it was his own skin. He hadn't guessed how much it would hurt. But it was supposed to hurt. Pain was a survival mechanism. His brain was telling him not to, because he was still human. Sam didn't want that to change.

The blood was beginning to darken. Or maybe it was his vision that was darkening. Everything was blurry. It was getting harder to breathe.

Sam looked away from his wrists and let himself fall. He curled his wrists to his chest. The wet grass beneath him made his clothes damp and tickled his face. But he was too far gone to feel it. He let his eyes fall shut, tired of watching the growing stain of blood. Evil blood. His blood.

Sam knew he should stay awake, but he was so tired. It wouldn't hurt to just close his eyes would it? He hadn't been sleeping much lately so it was only fair he get some rest now. Sleeping was probably dangerous, considering all the blood. He might not wake up. Sam dismissed that thought. It was just demon blood.

 

* * *

 

"Dammit Sam" Dean muttered as he heard Sam's voicemail for the sixteenth time. He still couldn't find him. Dean pulled out a map of the town from the glove box. It didn't take long for him to find a park. Whenever Sam had run off as a kid, he had always run to a forest, or a park. Something about being out in the air appealed to him.

Things had been so much easier then.

Dean had always known where to find Sam, and how to get him home. Now, things were different. Too much had changed. They had both changed. He didn’t like it. Dean started the car and drove off to the park. He hoped he could convince Sam to come home this time.

"Sam," Dean breathed.

A crumbled form lay on the ground. A small, bloody puddle was pooling beneath him. Dean knew it was Sam. Castiel stood over him. He was staring down at his little brother.

Dean froze. Cas didn't look like he would hurt Sam, but he wasn't helping him either. The angel had made his dislike of Sam clear, but Dean had doubts that Cas would let something bad happen to him. Surely, he knew that Dean would never help him if he let something happen to Sam.

Castiel raised his gaze and met his eyes. Dean could almost convince himself that Cas looked worried about Sam.

Dean ran to his brother. He dropped to his knees and rolled Sam onto his back. Sammy looked like a corpse. Again. His skin was like ice. It was too similar to that awful day when he lost Sammy. He didn't want to find out if his brother was dead. He couldn't deal with that.

"He’s alive, Dean," said Castiel, guessing that Dean would be concerned.

Dean nodded mutely. Sam was alive now, but he was still bleeding, how long would he last? "He needs a doctor, or a hospital, or-"

Castiel scooped up Sam's limp form with more strength than a man his size should possess. "We cannot bring him to a hospital, they can do nothing for him. I will take care of your brother." Castiel disappeared with a flutter of wings.

Dean stared at the spot where the angel had previously stood. He could call Castiel back to yell at, but Sammy needed help now. He pulled out his keys and ran back to the Impala. He just hoped that Castiel was actually going to help Sam, and not kill him.

_'Take care'_ was too broad of a term.

When Dean entered the motel room he was relieved to see Castiel standing guard over Sam. He was still watching Sam, but his face gave nothing away. Sam's eyes were cracked half open, peering up at Castiel. Dean could tell from his glazed eyes that Sam was still out of it. Sam mumbled something, and his eyes closed. He didn't move.

"Cas?" asked Dean.

"He is okay, Dean," Castiel replied, monotone.

"Oh, sure," Dean snapped. "He just cut through his freaking wrists!"

"I believe he was trying to cleanse himself of his tainted blood. I think he has succeeded. I can find no demonic trace."

"What?" Dean stammered, eyes flicking between watching Sam, worriedly, and glaring a Castiel. "You're saying my brother's a demon!?" He growled.

"Your brother is human. He no longer has any demon blood within him. It is impressive that he has managed it without it taking his life."

Dean stared. 'Taking his life', how could Cas say it so calmly? Sammy had had demon blood, and then he'd slashed his wrist to get rid of it. Sammy had nearly bled to death, twice. And this time he did it to himself.

"Your brother did not intend to kill himself, Dean. He only intended to purge himself of the taint within," Castiel explained. "He was successful. I believe he will be fine. I have healed him as best as I can. He will be incredibly weak when he awakes, which will not be for a long time."

Dean sighed in relief. Sam would be fine. He ignored Castiel leaving and instead sat down on the bed beside Sam. He brushed away the hair from his forehead.

He was still cold. Dean grabbed the blankets from his bed and draped them over Sam, tucking them in to try warm him up faster.

Dean smoothed down the wrinkles on the blankets. "We are going to have a  _long_ talk when you wake up about you keeping secrets from me." He sighed. "I can't lose you again, Sammy." Dean laughed. "And I think Cas might have joined me on that."

Unknown to Dean, Castiel was still watching the pair. He privately agreed with Dean. Dean had been rather angry about how he had treated Sam in the past. He understood, now, that the brother's devotion to one another was unmatched. If he ever watched Dean's help with something, then Sam would have to be kept safe.


End file.
